


we'll have a good time then

by Pierulestheworld



Category: Inhumans (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, the Fantastic Four show up briefly but not enough for me to bother tagging them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:39:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15015854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pierulestheworld/pseuds/Pierulestheworld
Summary: Five directions that could have led to Ahura Boltagon having a different, better life, and one way it could have been much worse.





	we'll have a good time then

**Author's Note:**

> My working title for this was ‘LET AHURA BE HAPPY’ and…..that’s a pretty good summary of this fic. Ahura is a character I like lots but the poor kid does not have a happy life and needs a break and a hug. 
> 
> Follows canon pretty closely (except for the purposeful divergences of course), except possibly AU 5. I’m pretty hazy on what was up with the Inhumans around that point as Ahura and Luna didn’t appear like at all during that period. And I only read Inhuman comics for them so idk what post-Hickman’s FF and pre-Terrigen Bomb Inhumans was like. 
> 
> May get a sequel or two (?) as I couldn’t fit in everything I had planned for AU’s 2 and 5 (especially 5, which would be ‘Ahura and Luna join the Runaways,’ which is an idea I totally want to play with).
> 
> Also, the title comes from the song ‘Cats in the Cradle,’ aka a song Ahura probably feels pretty deeply.

**i.**

Black Bolt is stoic as the coronation ends and he enters his chambers for the night. His parents were only killed a few days prior, killed in a wreck caused by his own powers, but he is not allowed to mourn. He has a kingdom to run now.

He… has no idea what to do. Of course, he was taught the theory behind running a kingdom, but he has never had any practical experience. All he truly knew was how to live in isolation.

But he wants to do better than his parents. He knew of the rash of suicides that happened every year when the Genetic Council declared who could marry who. He knew of the children taken from their parents for the crime of being born into a family not meant to reproduce. He knew of the children shunned and disowned for having ‘unseemly’ powers from Terrigenesis, after having been forced into it by their parents.

He wants Attilan under his rule to be better than any of the ones before him. For _everyone_.

For the next few weeks after his coronation, instead of sleeping he writes draft after draft of a new proclamation. He has no intention of slighting Medusa by writing instead of letting her speak for him, he just wants to get the wording down perfectly, in a way no one could argue his thoughts or claim Medusa was putting words in his mouth. It takes scores of papers, but eventually he is satisfied.

He walks into his meeting with the Genetic Council the next morning with Medusa by his side and a determined expression on his face. He will not be swayed. He will diminish the power of the outdated Council, and give more power to the people, to live their own lives as free men and women of Attilan.

He ends the meeting with his new decree, and it goes exactly as well as he expected it would. The Council sputters and threatens him, but he will not be swayed.

Abruptly, surprising even Medusa, he gets up and leaves the council room, making a small gesture for all to follow him. They do, continuing their complaining through the palace halls.

Medusa begins to ask him what he’s doing, but a minute shake of his head cuts her off. She purses her lips but stays at his side anyways. Following his lead, she says nothing, even when Council members directly pester her too.

They make it to the throne room when one of the Councilmen finally explodes from the anger at his power being diminished and not getting any response as to why.

“I tell you, my King, you can’t do this! To diminish the Genetic Council to being only auxiliary support and counsel? The people will revolt from this break from tradition! What makes you think you can possibly do this?”

Black Bolt turns to look directly into the Councilman’s eyes, hushing the rest of them. He then resolutely and proudly climbs the steps up to his throne. He sits down and makes eye contact once again. Even without words, the Genetic Council has gotten his point, and begins to make apologies and bows as they disperse.

Medusa stands next to him and briefly puts a hand on his shoulder alongside a quick, beautiful smile. He has her approval and something in him lightens.

Now people, or their families, can decide who they want to wed, and not be anguished over being separated from the one they love. No longer will anyone be told they can’t have children or be told that their children will be taken away from them only because the Council declared so.

The future, for him, for Medusa, for Attilan, somehow seems brighter now.

**ii.**

Verna looks at Pope sleeping on the couch. He’s such a small and skinny boy even if he ages so rapidly, and sleep magnifies how small he is; he barely takes up one cushion curled up like he is. There’s an old quilt thrown over him, and while he’s surprisingly calm after what happened, every so often he twitches and whimpers and Verna’s heart breaks. All she wants is to protect him from whatever bad dreams were coming from the hell of a day he’d had.

Strangers, _superheroes_ , came their town saying they knew what and who Pope was and that they were taking him back. She and Norm had let their boy go with those odd strangers because they had no idea how to raise him. He might’ve killed some mean, old goat by looking at it, and in the year they had him, he went from being a newborn to about four years old.

They had no idea how to raise him.

They thought it best if Pope lived with others that had powers. And maybe those strangers, Gorgon and Karnak, truly did know Pope’s birth parents and would reunite them with their son. It killed her to give him up, but all she wanted was him to be happy. If him going away resulted in him being happier then so be it.

She repeated a mantra in those hours after letting Pope go: _if you love something let it go, if it was meant to be, God will give it back._

And barely a day after taking him, the two strangers brought her little boy back to her. They thought he might be safer being raised by a pair of humans than being brought into whatever turmoil their society was in at the moment.

Frankly, Verna didn’t give a damn in that moment about whatever their explanation was. All she could do was cry, and hug Pope, and make sure he was okay, and watch over him as he fell asleep on the couch while the adults talked.

She still hasn’t taken her eyes off of her boy.

Her and Norm had talked for hours on what to do. They were going to move, definitely. And they would probably have to move a few times as Pope grew; his aging would be too noticeable. Norm suggested moving further into the Midwest, as far from New York and superheroes as possible.

They had done a quick search of a superhero database for ‘Gorgon’ and ‘Karnak.’ They had been directed to an article series on a group referred to as the ‘Inhuman Royal Family.’

Verna had no idea how they were going to explain to Pope when he grew up that he might be royalty.

Norm sensibly said they’ll cross that bridge when it becomes relevant.

Norm’s out now, making some calls and starting to look around for where their family could potentially move. Verna couldn’t bear to leave Pope’s side.

He starts to whimper again, and she brushes his messy hair off his forehead and makes calming noises towards him. He continues to shake slightly, and she brings him onto her lap where he immediately cuddles into her chest and calms down.

She had let her baby go once, and by the grace of God, he was given back to her. Even if it would be tough and scary to raise a quickly growing, super powered child, she wasn’t going to give him up for anything again.

**iii.**

Medusa holds her son close to her chest and looks at the Genetic Council in anger.

“You think _what_ of the Prince?”

The leader spreads his hands out in an appeasing gesture. “You yourself have seen how he acts, Your Majesty. He shrieks all day, bites any handlers, and refuses to respond to any words. It might be hard for you to take, but the madness of the King’s brother seems to have manifested in the Prince. Only the Pacifiers will be able to handle this.”

He moves forward, as if to dare to take her son, while Medusa steps back defensively, an almost-snarl on her face. Her hair begins to rise and wave threateningly around.

_“Don’t you dare get near us.”_

He wisely steps back. Medusa turns to her husband.

“Blackagar, you can’t stand for this, can you? Your _son_?”

She sees how conflicted he feels. She can read her husband better than she can any book, and there are pages upon pages to be said in the slight way he shifts from one foot to another, in how his mouth downturns slightly.

He does not want to, but he feels he has to. There is guilt. He was told it was possible that Ahura could have inherited Maximus’ madness, and it seems to have happened. And if he ends up like Maximus, then what could that lead to? How many times has Maximus tried to kill them and destroy Attilan because of a feud taken out of control? If Ahura grew up unchecked and did even half of what Maximus had, it would be his fault for not stopping it sooner. He is torn between his duty as king to stop any potential threats before they can act, and his duty as a father to protect his child from harm. Which should he put first?

Medusa hopes she can push his thoughts towards acting in his duty as a father. “My love, he is not mad, I swear it. Remember yesterday? We were in meetings all day, from dawn to dusk, and by the time we made it to dinner, we were exhausted. And who was there at the table with a smile and bouquet of handpicked flowers for his parents? How can you consider him mad when thinking of that?”

A flicker of doubt in Black Bolt’s eyes was vanished by a Councilman’s harsh voice.

“One lucid moment does not make a sane man, Your Highness. Earlier today he sent a maid to the physician after he threw a toy and sliced her arm open! He needs… help. The Pacifier’s will give help.”

Medusa made sure Black Bolt’s attention was on her. “Can you really do that, my love? Just lock Ahura up for the rest of his adolescence, alone save for medical attendants and scientists evaluating him, all because some consider him too dangerous for daily life? Make him live a life of dazed solitude all to pacify the hurt feelings of a group of old men who think they know best? Can you _truly_ force your son to experience all that made your own childhood so bleak?”

Black Bolt’s expression became hard. For all he wants nothing more than to protect his kingdom from what could be a potential threat, he can’t bear to force anyone, let alone his son, to experience the maddening isolation that was his own youth.

He waved away the Genetic Council, who muttered, but respectfully exited, and kneeled before Ahura. The boy had been pressed against his mother throughout the argument, silent and wide eyed. The Council scared him, and he didn’t want to be taken away from his parents again. He now looked at his father who was staring at him tenderly. Ahura was taken back when his father hugged him, but he put his own skinny arms around his father’s neck and hugged back.

Medusa sighed in relief at the sight of her husband and child embracing, her hair finally stilling and falling down to her side. She seemed to finally have Black Bolt on her side, and maybe together they could help Ahura through his problems.

**iv.**

Medusa holds her son close to her chest as she runs through the palace calling out for Lockjaw.

The Genetic Council, those washed out, conservative _bastards_ tried to take her son from her, claiming that he was _mad_ like his uncle. The only thing _mad_ from that conversation was the idea that a group of old men on their death beds thought they knew what was best for Medusa’s son.

The only thing _mad_ from that conversation was how her husband sided with those bastards and tried to make her hand Ahura over to the Pacifiers.

Oh, her fury had been blinding in that moment. She usually tried to be so polite and cordial when in front of others with her husband, even when she disagreed with him. It was improper for people to see their monarchs arguing. But in that moment, she did not care about what was and wasn’t proper. Her hair flared up in a writhing mass, causing all in attendance to jump back lest they get injured, as she yelled at Black Bolt for the crime he was trying to make her do.

He silently tried to argue with her, but she would not, _could not_ , give her only child up to a sect of monsters who would brainwash him into cooperation. If she were calmer, she would’ve noted Black Bolt’s body language and expression indicated he did not want to either, was doing it only out of perceived duty to his kingdom, but, frankly, Medusa didn’t care. She would never give Ahura up. Not after already missing the first few years of his life.

And so, she picked up Ahura and ran.

Her hair kept everyone at several arm’s length as she looked for Lockjaw. Guards yelled at her, and she could distantly hear Karnak talking, but she was intent on her hunt.

Which, mercifully, didn’t take long. Lockjaw heard his name and bounded up to her, all big dog excitement and cheer. She gave him a brief pet, and then grabbed his face so he looked at her.

“Lockjaw, please. _Please_. I need you to take me to the Baxter Building. And once you do, immediately teleport back here. And, if my husband or Crystal instructs you to bring them to me, _please_ keep my location a secret. If they find me…”

She trailed off and looked down at Ahura, who had been clinging to her quietly throughout the run. Lockjaw seemed to get what she meant and gave her a confident lick on her face. There was a brief, blue glow and Medusa was in the Fantastic Four’s living room, Lockjaw leaving her just as soon as he came.

“Medusa!” Reed Richards was suddenly in front of her. “What’s going on? Is there something happening in Attilan?”

Before, when she had run from the Genetic Council, she had gone to a random town in Nevada. That proved inefficient as her family had found her within a week anyways. It would take even less time for them to check in with the Fantastic Four, but as long as they knew the situation she was in, she knew the human superheroes would be on her side. They had a child, they would understand the pain she was feeling.

As she hurriedly explained what was going on, she could see the Richards’ eyes widening. Ahura was beginning to get restless, but he was quiet still, and seemed content for now to let Medusa clutch him to her chest.

When she finished, there was silence. Then Susan Richards briskly walked to her to give her a crushing hug. Sue pulled back to look Medusa in the eyes.

“Don’t worry, you and Ahura will be safe with us. We won’t let _anyone_ take him from you.”

Medusa nodded mutely, her eyes wet as she leaned into Sue’s embrace, her rage suddenly gone from her body. She had help now. She could protect Ahura from whatever fate he would have had with the Pacifiers. It was going to be okay.

**v.**

Things were chaotic on Attilan. They had just gotten back to Earth, and Ahura was pretty sure they weren’t ruling the Kree anymore. Why? He had no clue, no one ever told him or Luna anything. All he knew was that his parents and caretakers were so busy, that he could spend five days away from the palace and not have anyone notice. He had tested that.

This didn’t feel good to Ahura.

He didn’t get a lot of things. He had aged rapidly as a young child (although his aging was stable now, another thing he didn’t get), so his emotions weren’t as developed as other thirteen-almost-fourteen-year-olds. Then, he was kept isolated with the Pacifiers for several years which stunted his development quite a bit more. Usually, his cousin Luna would explain things he didn’t get to him (and he would do the same for her when the time called), but she was just as confused and upset as he right now.

Her mother had to leave her husband, and she was coping by being angry and alone. Luna tried to visit every few days and was turned away each time.

Luna had had more time at learning how to be royalty and keep a stoic face, but she was still an eight-year-old girl. She couldn’t hold in the hurt she felt from her mother neglecting her.

They were in the gardens, their feet dangling into a pond when Ahura suggested it.

“What if we ran away?”

“What?”

“What if we ran away?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? It’s not like our parents care about us. It’d probably take a month for them to notice we’re gone.”

Luna looked down at her feet and was quiet for a moment. “That’s probably true, but, how could we? We have a… a duty.”

He shrugged. Ahura never really understood that sense of royal duty the others in his family had. Maybe because if you added up all the time he spent at court, it’d be about two and a half years, tops. It just wasn’t instilled in him like it was with the others.

“You don’t have to come. But I think I will leave anyways. I—Sometimes, I don’t think my parents even like me. That they don’t care about me really, just the idea of me as an heir. I think I saw the maids whispering to Uncle Karnak about me, saying that I’ve gone mad again. They might be convinced to lock me up again. I… I can’t go through that again. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to come out whole from that again.”

Luna just looked at him, her eyes glowing gold, and said nothing. They sat at the edge of the pond in silence together for the rest of the afternoon.

In the end, Luna did come with him. She tried talking to her mother again and was yet again sent away, told not to disturb Crystal.

They packed bags full of clothes and food. Luna knew more about American currency and knew where some was in the palace, so they took that. It was easy to leave without needing Lockjaw, what with Attilan floating over New York City and all. They planned to go west. New York was familiar to both, but that also meant there were a great many who were familiar with them. They couldn’t risk it. It would be hard to get to the other side of America, but it’s what they needed to do.

And so, the cousins snuck away, holding each other’s hands, and didn’t look back.

**+i.**

Ahura walked through Eldrac the Door and was suddenly face to face with Kang the Conqueror. He was, well, shocked to say the least. Where he needed most to be was with an insane villain who had delusions of grandeur?

When he wasn’t met with hostility, Ahura decided to wait it out. His parents were not the best, but they had never failed to rescue him when he was hostage or otherwise away from them before.

And so, he waited. And waited. And waited.

For months, he waited. They never came.

He felt physical pain the day he realized they were probably not going to ever come for him. He knew his parents weren’t going to win any parenting awards, but they loved him. Or, he thought they loved him.

He started to follow Kang around on his missions after that.

Kang showed him how to move through the timestream, how to manipulate it to get a desired result. It was fascinating, really, how Kang worked. Ahura had never put much thought into time travel even though he knew people who had done it multiple times. But listening to Kang, he suddenly understood why it interested and drove so many people. It was beautiful.

As he aged, Kang began to give him more freedom, allowed him to do more missions on his own. It was bloody and thankless, but Ahura enjoyed himself nonetheless. When he completed his missions successfully, he got more praise from Kang than he ever had gotten the entire time he had lived with his birth father. That alone made up for anything unsavory.

And when he found out what his missions were truly for, even the unsavory became pleasant. Killing Kang was unfortunate, but it had to happen. It was meant to happen.

Ahura continued his quest, gathering pieces, and when done, went to rest in where he knew his progenitors were fated to show. He was simultaneously full of rage and at peace. He knew what was coming, he knew what must be done. He had waited over a century for this moment.

Really, if he killed Black Bolt and Medusa, whatever version of him they were trying to save would thank him in the end.

Really.

This life was the best possible outcome there was for him.


End file.
